


Crossing the Line

by Camk475



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, Falling In Love, Hogwarts, Love, Partners to Lovers, Partnership, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29995035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camk475/pseuds/Camk475
Summary: The beginning of summer was where it all began.The new school year was the start of a shift between them.It only took 4 months for their present to change.Then they experienced the trials and tribulations of love.The story of how a war brought two unlikely people together.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: All romantic entanglements are completely consensual and take place when Hermione is above legal age of consent and when abiding to wizarding law, is a legal adult. 
> 
> If you don’t like the Hermione and Snape pairing then don’t read. 
> 
> Please Enjoy.
> 
> Reviews are always welcome.
> 
> I plan to post each new chapter within the next 4 days of a posted chapter. 

Prologue:

Hermione POV

Hermione Granger was supposed to be working alongside Severus Snape to find the location of a weapon that could destroy Voldemort. So how did she find herself kissing him?

Hermione wasn't sure who kissed who. All she knew was that one minute they were working side by side, a usual occurrence as of late. Hands close to one another as they looked over a map on the bench. Currently working out of his private lab; a place that was not only off-limits to students if they even knew of its existence, but also to every other staff member as well. Severus wouldn't even allow the Headmaster into his private workspace. And yet he let Hermione inside even holding the door open for her. Today not being the only occasion he granted her such a privilege. Technically speaking they were not breaking any rules with having her in here, even with her being a student; currently in her last year of Hogwarts. Dumbledore was fully aware of their attempts to bring an end to Voldemort. He was even the one to encourage them to work together. 

When they were looking over a map of the east coast of Whales their fingers brushed against one another. He noticed it first, drawing her own attention to their hands. When both of them locked down at their touching hands neither one attempted to move. Looking back at one another their eyes locked on in question. She noticed that they burned with an intensity that wasn't uncommon for the man. But today they were charged with something different from his usual disdain and anger. Even though they were dark they shined with an intention that was only known to him. Something Hermione wished she could know. She hoped they blazed with the secret of darkness and passion. Something she knew was growing dangerously close to what the two have been denying for weeks now.

The room around them began to sizzle with electricity. The room was silent except for their breathing that seemed to increase the longer the two looked at one another. She may have unconsciously licked her lips, but she wasn't sure all she could see and focus on was him. The way he hunched his neck downwards, leaving them with better eye contact to compensate for their height differences. Normally he stood tall towering over her by a foot. But now in his current stance, placing his weight on his hands, he was only a few inches taller than her. He has forgone his wizarding robes opting out of his teaching attire. He wore a long-sleeve black shirt and black trousers. Suitable clothes for the task that laid ahead of them. Clothes that suited him quite well if she was being honest. They didn't lean into one another nor did they move away. With being so close she realized that he smelled of smoke and sage. The scent, when coming off of him, was completely intoxicating.

She couldn't feel anything. Not her shallow breath, not the feeling of wood under her hands as she grabbed the bench harder. Not even the temperature of the room. The only thing she could feel was his stare and the effect he had on her. His presence was like dark tendrils slowly wounding around herself. She found herself not wanting it to stop. Not his gaze or the growing heat coursing through her lower stomach. She found herself drowning in him. She didn't know how long they stood looking at one another. It could have been seconds or minutes. Her skin began to tingle as her blood boiled.

She wasn't the only one feeling this way. He completely reciprocated her feelings. The feeling of passion, desire, hunger. It was as if an electric current was running between them.

Then the next thing she knew her mouth was intertwined with his.

His lips were raw and chapped. But they were the most delicious thing she has ever tasted. It was like melting and falling all at once. Darting his tongue to her lips asking for permission she gladly opened them. 

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was fast as his lips devoured hers. Wanting to taste her. She felt his hands wrap around her waist. Pulling her closer to him. She didn't hesitate in sliding her hands up around his neck holding his head against hers.

She knew that she should have stopped him or he should have stopped her, but neither made any attempt to stop. Her hands just couldn't stop touching him. His lean back, the width of his shoulder, the base of his neck. The need to explore him was too great. Not even his mouth devouring hers in hungry kisses saturated her need. 

He wasn’t her first kiss. But she has never experienced anything even close to what she was feeling with him. It amazed her how it only took four months for any feelings she had for the man to change so drastically. She never hated him but she mostly felt indifferent to his person. What she was feeling now was far from indifferent. They weren't stupid, they both knew that working together in close proximity with one another would change the dynamic of the once student-teacher relationship. But she never thought they would be crossing boundaries of this nature.

He lifted her onto the edge of the bench. Adding to her height and easing his strain of leaning down to kiss her. She ended up sitting on the map they were previously hunched over. He fisted her hair and held her in place. Not wanting to go anywhere other than to be with him, she moved her legs to cradle his hips. He muttered _fuck_ underneath his breath when their lips were parted when she pushed her hips against his obvious arousal. Heat pooled to the apex of her legs. It was too much and yet not enough.

The need for oxygen became too much and she gasped for air while their mouths were still connected. Taking the air out of him. He tore his mouth away from her and yet she still couldn’t think. Her mind was in a haze of pleasure, that was only caused by him. 

Kissing down her neck, his mouth gently trailed along her collar until he ended up at the top of her shirt where the swell of her breasts was exposed. He moved back up to her neck as her hands clawed his back. Moaning as he bit along the point of where her jaw met her neck she couldn’t help but whisper. “Severus.”

Suddenly he stopped. Breathing heavily she could feel his breath against her throat as he hesitated to move.

Looking at her eyes again. He swallowed thickly before the only words he could muster fell from his lips, “Northridge Peak.”

Her mind was too scattered to comprehend what he had just said. The only thing she knew was that he had stopped kissing her but she didn't want him to stop. Certainly not to talk about a forest that ended off a cliff. Then suddenly everything came rushing back to her. The map, the weapon. The weapon that could kill Voldemort. He figured out where it was buried. On Northridge Peak

Stopping herself from thinking about the kiss though glorious, she knew she needed to focus on what was important and not what had just transpired between them. He must have thought the same thing for he reluctantly pulled himself away from her. She almost whimpered at the loss of contact. He stood back several feet and stood tall though rigid. He must have been having as much trouble composing himself as she did. Realizing her current position still propped up on the bench, she hopped down Running a hand through her hair, trying to tame the frizz he unleashed from her curls. She blew out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. 

He turned to look at her but didn’t meet her eye. In all honesty, she didn’t even try to meet his. Though the contact between them has been severed it was as if a flood gate had just been released. They both knew that they needed to talk about what had just transpired. But they couldn’t not right now. Not when they were so close to retrieving a weapon that could finally end the war. Not when they didn’t even know what the kiss meant. 

“We should leave in an hour,” He said, turning his back towards her. Looking at one another would spiral them on the path of no return. Now wasn’t the time for a repeat performance. Though she would love nothing more than to continue what they had started. “I suggest you go collect your things. We will be digging,” he said reminding her of the plan that they both momentarily had forgotten.

He didn’t say or do anything to stop her when she left. Walking out of the door she couldn’t help but stop and lean back against it once it was close. Putting her hands on bended knees she threw her head back against the door in angst. _Merlin, how could she have let this happen._ This could ruin everything they have developed. It was wrong. But then why did it feel so right to kiss him and be with him. A growing feeling that she had begun to experience over the last several weeks. 

How did this happen? How did she go from being his student to his partner and then a friend? And now whatever they are now all because of a kiss. 

Thinking back, it all began in the summer.


	2. Part 1: Back to the Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:  
> Third Person: Hermione’s POV- For all chapters in Part 1  
> AU from sixth year and on  
> No horcruxes  
> This story will contain 4 parts. Part 1 and 2 and all chapters in each part will depict how Hermione and Snape started to fall for one another. Part 3 and 4 will be about their romantic relationship.

The beginning of summer was where it all began.

* * *

July 8th

“Professor Snape is a very busy man and though he will never admit, he could use some assistance with brewing this summer if you are willing to brace it?” Headmaster Dumbledore asked as he talked to Hermione Granger outside of the library of 12 Grimmauld Place. 

The house was currently being used by the Order of the Phoenix as a Headquarters despite it being the ancestral home to Sirius Black. It was the summer of 1997. Hermione had just finished her sixth year and would soon be entering her final year of Hogwarts along with her best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. As long as the ongoing war against Lord Voldemort didn’t get in the way of her graduation of course. With the Ministry of Magic admitting to his revival, it made it easier to publicly oppose the man. But it didn’t seem enough to stop him. Therefore, the war was still in full effect and the order was working full steam ahead. The majority of them were staying at Headquarters full time for convenience. It was easier for everyone to work together if they were all within reach of one another. Hence why Professor Snape was living underneath Sirius Black’s roof. At the insistence of Dumbledore of course. An idea that is revolted by both men. If it wasn’t for the war and Professor Snape’s role as a spy he wouldn’t be caught dead here. 

“And is Professor Snape aware of this position you are offering?” Hermione asked, readjusting the books in her hands. She was just bringing them back to the room she was sharing with Ginny when she was intercepted by the Headmaster. She never had many conversations with the man let alone private ones so she was quite intrigued. Especially once he stated his proposal. 

“Not particularly. I fear I am not only asking you to brace the workload this summer but also his temper,” the Headmaster admitted with a small smile. Despite his apparent remorse, he held a twinkle behind his glasses. 

“I managed for the last six years I think I can manage for the next two months,” Hermione said, ensuring the Headmaster of her capability to bear the upcoming storm. It was clear that he believed this job to be of importance if he was coming to her personally for help. It was an honor and huge responsibility. How could she possibly refuse even if it meant spending time with a man who despised her and her friends? Not that she could blame him. They did cross him many times over the school years. Including when she set him on fire in her first year. Which he no doubt was already aware of.

“I think this may be a little different.”

“If you don’t mind me asking but why come to me?” She was honoured by his faith in her abilities but also confused on why he would choose her. Many other individuals were staying here this summer who no doubt have more experience with potions than her since she was still only a student.

“You are very skilled in potions if my recollection of your second year is any indication. And well to be quite frank out of everyone in the order and those staying here this summer. Well, I wouldn’t say he likes you best,” Dumbledore trailed off trying to find the correct words to describe the man’s feelings towards her.

“But out of everyone he dislikes he mostly finds me indifferent,” Hermione said with a knowing look. She knew full well that the only redeeming quality she had in the Potion master’s eyes was her outstanding schoolwork. Her being in Gryffindor though left her without any praise and susceptible to his disdain. But there were others he disliked more than her. Harry Potter for example. Dumbledore was trying to diffuse an already growing hostile environment.

“Exactly!” Dumbledore said before taking out a lemon drop from his long purple robes offering it to her. She declined politely before he popped it into his mouth as he waited patiently for her answer.

“Of course I will do it.”

Apparently, those were some damning words. It might as well be as if she signed her soul away only to go and work with the devil. She loved research and magical work don’t get her wrong. And spending the summer like this was truly her cup of tea despite others finding the work boring. The only issue was the overgrown bat looming over her shoulder. She trusted that Dumbledore already informed Professor Snape of her appearance, and she knew he would begrudgingly accept her. But he would surely not be pleased about it. A thought that did cause her stomach to drop. Her friends weren’t so sympathetic. _You're working with Snape, well good luck and there goes your summer_ were the consoling words from her trusted friends after she informed them of her summer plans. They were quite appalled that she said yes in the first place but not surprised. They were very familiar with her work ethic after years of friendship and knew that it was best not to get in her way when it comes to a learning opportunity. 

The first day of working together went as well as Hermione expected. He was clearly angry by the flash in his eyes and his movements that normally were calm and slow with control were almost erratic in his haste. The potion’s lab was located in the basement. The room used to be used for storage before Professor Snape converted it. Only a single table was laid along the middle with various burners and chopping blocks. The pots and brewing tools were laid on one shelf while another held various ingredients. Like the rest of the house, it was dark and damp and downright depressing. But clearly, Professor Snape has made the room fit for brewing. 

“It appears we will be spending quite a lot of time together this summer,” he said while leaning on the table. He was rigid and spoke smoothly keeping his voice in a less than normal volume. But she could hear the irritation seeping through. “So I suggest unless you want to make this more difficult than this already is, I suggest you stay out of my way. Don’t ask questions and stick to the list of potions I outlined for you. I am sure you can handle what I have provided. Do I make myself clear?” He asked, expecting obedience to his demands. Even though it was the summer and technically he was not her professor in this arrangement but her partner, he made it clear that she was to act as his student. And she was too nervous to oppose his ruling. 

So she gave the only response appropriate for the unpleasant situation the pair found themselves in. “Yes sir.”

* * *

  
  


July 22

Two weeks of silence and frustration. This was the endless and recurring cycle Hermione has found herself in over the summer. She worked hard to impress Professor Snape only for him to raise his already high expectations. He expected her to fail. That was obvious from the moment she was assigned to assist him. He watched her closely while pretending to ignore her presence, waiting to see if he could find any excuse to get rid of her. He was testing her. To see if she could withstand the pressure of not only pleasing him but to overcome his less than hospital attitude. He snapped and growled and never said anything pleasant. If she even so much as looked his way his shoulders would tense and his eyes would flare in annoyance. Especially if she seemed even a hint joyful. Despite all of his apparent aggression, his behaviour didn’t bother her. For the most part, it was silent. A nice change from the constant questions she received from Harry and Ron while in class. Though their company was always appreciated. There was something about the silence when brewing. She could see why the man loved the craft so much. It had a calming effect on her, almost meditative in the way of a routine. From the chopping to the counting and the stirring it was meticulous and required one’s undivided attention. Leaving no place in one’s mind for outside influences. A much-needed distraction with the war building.

The war had truly evolved since Voldemort's rebirth. At first, there were just rumours, spreads of information, and lies. Disappearances with no explanations and no bodies. No witnesses and no injuries. Then after the world found out he was alive at the end of Harry Potter's fifth year at the disastrous battle in the department of mysteries, everything came out into the light. There were kidnapping and assassinations. There was a prison break at Azkaban and street attacks. Diagon Alley was attacked twice last year in two raids and even the muggle prime minister was attacked. Every day there was news in the prophet of an individual killed by death eaters or another person being declared missing. The order did save many lives over the last year. But it never seemed to be enough. No wizard or muggle has been left untouched. The only place that hasn't been raided yet is St. Mungos but there was reason to believe; provided by Professor Snape, that an attack is being planned. The order is currently scurrying around trying to create preventive measures but at this point, it was a waiting game. Luckily besides world domination, everyone knew what Voldemort wanted and it seems as though he won’t stage a coup to take over the ministry until he has it. One Mr. Harry Potter. Because of this, the prophet is referring to him as the chosen one which is completely preposterous. And something that has caused her and Harry to have a good laugh over. 

But one piece of information has been revealed as true. Voldemort is immortal. Somehow before his first demise, he found the secret to immortality through some of the darkest forms of magic known to man. No one knows how he did it or how to reverse it. This leaves the order in a predicament. Leaving everyone feeling frustrated. Including Professor Snape who was often at the frontlines of the war. She felt that it was appropriate to excuse his increasingly aggressive behaviour. 

Dressing simply in either a jumper or a shirt and pants. She ensured that none of her clothing was loose or able to fall into the potion. Her hair was tied back away from her face despite the odd curl coming loose. Her level of sight was always clear. She never wore jewelry; always removing her leather bracelet before beginning. She didn’t want to leave anything up to chance. Anything that could be indicated that she was incompetent. 

It wasn’t just her potion-making skills he wanted to criticize. It was her intelligence and if she were being honest her pride. It bothered her by his apparent lack of faith in her abilities. He knew full well what she was capable of brewing after years as her Potion’s professor, overseeing her work and grading her. And yet he only ever assigned her potions that first to fourth years students learned to brew. He always left her a list of potions for her to work on. Once they were completed with the correct amount he would always replace the list before she returned the next morning. He never demanded her to stay late or to come in at a certain time. He didn’t comment on her coming and goings at all. But he did increase the number of potions she was expected to brew each day. 

It would be exceedingly pleasing If she could complete the task. Brewing important healing potions that would not only be given to the hospital wing at Hogwarts but for the order’s use as well. There was a clear reward for her hard work. The order would see her usefulness and would hopefully stop treating her like a child despite her being of legal age in the wizarding world. She may be a member of the order and even living full time at Headquarters. However, as a student, they decided not to assign any tasks to either her or Harry and Ron for that matter. Citing that with their upcoming NEWTs they should be focused on our futures. But she secretly disagreed and thought they won’t have a future if the war doesn’t come to an end. That, however, would not be possible with Professor Snape especially if Hermione ended up murdering him due to his stubbornness and her own frustrations. 

He looked the same whenever she saw him. His hair was limp by his face. His eyes were always cold and sharp. Wearing his usual wizarding robes and all-black attire. He never rolled up his sleeves even though it would help him while brewing. But Hermione had a hunch as to why he didn't. She knew that the dark mark was branded on his left arm. However, he would never show it to anyone. She suspected that he was ashamed of the mark and what it meant. The only person who has seen it besides himself was probably Dumbledore. But everyone knew it was there. She has never seen the branding before only images. But she was curious about what it looked like on skin. What it felt like. 

One day she had had enough of the same old routine and decided to address him. He had dark circles growing under his eyes and if her list of potions was any indication he had a never-ending list that he still had to complete despite her assistance. He was always there when she came and the last to leave every night. When she addressed his workload he simply snapped and directed her to continue with her own work.

“I’ve already finished and despite your lack of confidence I am fully capable of brewing a simple 5th-year potion.” Trying to argue her point and prove her capabilities. She wanted to be of assistance and knew that she could be if only he let her try. But it was as if she was asking him to sell the deed to London tower instead of giving her a few more complicated potions to brew. The man had stubbornness issues. That was for sure.

“Your cockiness in your own abilities does not persuade me,” Professor Snape said while continuing with his work without even giving her so much as a look in her direction. He simply continued dicing then pouring the mugwort into the cauldron. 

“It’s not simply my own confidence. Besides I’d figure you would have more faith in your teaching abilities,” Hermione said, strongly surprising even herself with the authority she spoke with. Especially to someone who was her superior. She kept her face neutral trying to retain her anger when she said, “Sir.”

“Any other potions you think you can handle?” He asked rhetorically. She had to remind herself that he wasn’t her friend and that it wasn’t okay to treat him with the same liberties she has with Harry and Ron. She couldn’t be snappish or standoffish with him. She needed to treat him with respect he deserved as a well accomplished Potion’s master. Something that was growing more difficult by the minute. 

“Polyjuice Potion.” Hermione declared. Deciding to be the brash and bold Gryffindor he thought she was.

“Really?” He asked with a drawl.

“Yes, it is one of my favourite brews,” she responded truthfully. Despite the circumstances of her second year, it was a highlight for her to brew a highly complicated NEWT-level potion. 

“Have much experience with this particular potion,” he asked looking up. His eyes seemed to steep into her soul. She knew that though there was weight behind his gaze that it was not legilimency. His hands stopped their work as his attention was redirected towards her. He was clearly intrigued by what she was going to say. No doubt attempting to entrap her into revealing something she didn’t want to.

“I’m not stupid enough to dishonour you by pretending that we both don’t know that I brewed it in my second year.” Revealing what they both knew to be true. His eye, if looked at close enough, began to twitch at her boldness. To him, it was simply arrogance which he was known to despise. 

“But you dishonour me with your stupidity to brew it in the first place,” he said, ending the discussion. His voice grew lower as he began to grow more displeased with her. His fingers began to grip the table. “You clearly have finished your work for the day and now are just wasting my time so I suggest you leave,” he said dismissing her and clearly stating for her to get out. He effectively ended the conversation with a simple sentence even though there was more she wished to say, but she was not stupid enough to remain and to be continually verbally insulted by the man. It was best that she didn’t push her luck. He was simply irritated and she did not want to make him angry.

Suppressing the urge to sigh in exasperation and to slam the door behind her, she quickly made her way out ensuring that she closed the door behind her once she climbed the basement stairs. Undoing her curly hair from its knot and removing her too hot jumper she tried to make herself more comfortable, despite her evident failure at changing the surly man’s mind. A task that she foolishly believed she could accomplish. It was folly to even try. A losing battle that he clearly won and they both knew it. Effectively closing her eyes and leaning back against the door, she tried to calm her breathing. He was just simply an angry bastard and not a human being simply being overstressed like herself. At least that is what she told herself. It was easier to be angry at him than to empathize. Especially when he wouldn’t want anyone to empathize with him and justify his behaviour. He has done worse things in the past. He has never physically assaulted a student but he has said questionable things that are surely not allowed in a professional professor code of conduct. He even said things towards her and yet this small conversation was what upset her. Maybe because insulting her teeth, a mere feature of her appearance meant less to her than when her intelligence was being called into question. A trait she has strived to perfect for most of her life. All in all, it left her frustrated. A growing sentiment over her shared time with him.

“You okay Mione,” Harry’s voice asked. 

Opening her eyes from her spot she noticed Harry sitting with Sirius and Remus. The three were seated at the kitchen table gathered around an open book. Harry looked worried over her slumped form as his brows creased. 

Pushing a curl out of her eyes. “Would you visit me if I went to Azkaban for murder,” she asked with a small smile, not easing her friend’s concern in the slightest. She knew he worried about her and her tendency to overwork herself. Even though he would never say it unless her health started showing clear signs of deteriorating, he didn’t approve of her work habits. Mind you she did tend to be so absorbed in a book that she would forget to eat every now and then. But now with her working alongside Snape, he grew concerned that he would overwork her. Privately he thought that he would try and hurt her. A thought she quickly dismissed. It never even crossed her mind that his antics were of a more sinister nature. 

“Severus giving you a hard time,” Remus said knowingly without looking up to see her state.

“You have no idea,” Hermione said exasperated.

“Trust me I do, I have hated that man for over two decades now,” Sirius gave with a sigh. Sympathizing with her. Despite Azkaban doing a number on him, he looked extremely well despite his experience. He has put on enough weight to be considered healthy again and his face didn’t appear to be as sunken as it first was when she met him all those years ago. He was most pleased that he retained his luscious locks despite the limited maintenance over the years. His words, not hers. With all of the people at Grimmauld, the smile he was currently sporting became more permanent. He would be seen laughing the most when in the presence of Harry. The two finally had some time to become a proper family despite the raging war outside the walls.

“Come on Sirius,” Remus said, giving a disapproval look at his friend. “You should respect him, he does a lot for the order.”

“Oh trust me I do respect him immensely but that doesn’t change the fact that he makes me want to skin him alive and feed him to my cat,” Hermione said calmly, causing some concern looks to be shot her way. Especially when at this precise moment Crookshanks decided to grace the kitchen’s residents with his presence. “Sorry rant is over. He just gets under my skin.” 

“Yes he is exceedingly good at that,” Remus admitted returning his attention to the book in between them. Though he tried to be on friendly terms with the sour man his actions were not reciprocated. 

“What are you guys doing?” Hermione asked. Not having a clear view of what drew their attention.

“Looking over some old photos,” Sirius explained while pointing to the book.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” She thought it was best to leave the three men to their privacy. Harry's parents have always been a sore spot for these men and she didn’t want to intrude on a private moment. Especially if they were going to discuss their emotions on the subject. Something she full heartily approved of and was about time in her opinion. She knew that it wasn’t her place to intrude.

“Want to stay and have a look,” Harry asked in invitation. The two have always found a form of comfort in one another. Both being only children, growing up in the muggle world and finding their place in the magical one; they found a sibling in one another. 

“Is that alright with you?” Hermione looked at all the occupants of the room ensuring that all three of them were comfortable with her presence. Though she was on great terms with Remus and Sirius she didn’t want to place herself into their business.

“It’s fine, besides I’ve seen your baby photos don’t you want to see mine?’” Harry asked teasingly. Reminding her of the awful time her parents showed Harry and Ron her embarrassing baby photos several years ago.

“Sure I would love to have something to make fun of you for,” Hermione said with a genuine smile. Sitting beside her friend and ruffling his already unruly hair she looked at the smiling face of a baby Harry.

Luckily having a little downtime with her friends for the evening was enough to calm her frazzled nerves. Looking at the old photos of Harry's family was refreshing, especially when they looked at the ones from her and Harry’s year. Though it did make her solemn when she thought about her own family. They spent hours retelling stories to Sirius and Remus. But eventually, morning came around. As the sun began to shine across her face and the idea of going back down into the basement settled in she knew she was going to have a rough day. No doubt Professor Snape would be cross with her after she talked back to him yesterday. He would have found her behaviour the most disrespectful. With her hair sprawled around her and finding herself borrowed underneath the covers the urge to go back to sleep was not helping. Finally hauling herself out of bed and eyeing Ginny’s sleeping form with envy she made her way to shower and use the loo.

Dressed in her normal attire and after pulling her hair back, she made a stop for a quick breakfast and greeting before making her way down to the basement. That familiar knot of dread pooled into her stomach as she quickly walked down the stairs. As always Professor Snape was already brewing. He never said anything towards her nor did he look up from his work. Realizing that he wouldn’t address what she said yesterday she took a look at her new list. Noticing the six batches of Sleeping Draught, two batches of Dwelling Solution, and twelve batches of Calming and Sleeping Drought, Hermione repressed the urge to sigh at her workload. Knowing that it was pointless to whine and that she should be grateful for the opportunity regardless of the work itself. Combing through the ingredients she gathered the bat spleens, dried nettles, and puffer-fish eyes to begin the swelling solution since it was the easiest and required the most time to settle. Before making her way back over to her brewing station. The table was long enough that they each had their own space. Never had the issue or the need to borrow each other's ingredients. Nor did they ever end up coming in close proximity to one another. It created less awkwardness and annoyance when the two didn’t have to deal with jarring each other's elbows. Which could end up being a fatal mistake in potions.

Getting into a rhythmic pace of cutting the nettles she almost missed the quiet voice directed towards her.

“Did it work?”

“Did what work?” Hermione asked, confused as she looked towards Professor Snape. He never usually asked her questions. To do so would be inquiring her opinion. 

“The polyjuice in your second year.” Snape stopped his measuring before looking up towards her. His eyes were red-rimmed and sunken. “I am familiar that it didn’t work for you. But I am aware that enough of my ingredients were stolen for three servings for the potion. So did it work for Potter and Weasley?” His voice wasn’t malicious but more so of inquiry. 

Seeing no harm in answering truthfully, Hermione responded, “Yes it did.”

“I’m surprised that your roommates didn’t report you for your illegal brewing,” Snape said conversely. It was strange that he was engaging in conversation with her. Let alone anyone. But she wasn’t displeased at the idea nor the topic of discussion. His voice was neutral and in a way that wasn’t exactly inviting to converse with but not unpleasant. He always had a way of grabbing people’s attention. Many thought that it was due to his dark, intimidating presence. But in reality, it was his voice. Like his hands calloused from use. His voice emphasized his control.

“They might not like me all that much,” Hermione replied after taking a moment to consider. “But I doubt they would turn me over even if they did know it was illegal.” Hermione’s roommates weren't rude or mean to her. They simply didn’t have much in common. They tended to enjoy fashion and gossip rather than facts and books like Hermione. But they were kind to each other when the situation called for it. 

“Where did you brew it then if not in your dorm?” Snape asked as returned to his brew.

“What makes you think I simply didn’t brew it in your classroom after dark?” Hermione asked, surprised by her confidence. Especially with her professor. To the surprise of many Hermione did have a habit of speaking honestly to others in a way that could be seen as snarky, blunt or rude. Or some combination of the three. But with a sarcastic friend like Harry, it was often overlooked especially with her natural optimism.

“I would have known,” he said simply. The man guarded the dungeons like a warden guarding a prison. He also had a tendency to know everything about everyone. Due to his exceptional observational skills.

“Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom,” Hermione said sheepishly. It wasn’t her best idea but at the time it seemed so clever and it did the trick. Snape abruptly looked up at her again. His eyes narrowed in suspicion trying to decipher if she was lying to him or not. For what reason would she have to mess with him, she didn’t know.

“Your kidding.” Though his face was emotionless as always, astonishment was detected in his tone. It was clear that he hadn’t expected that as her response. She would even go so far as to say that maybe she impressed him.

“Nope.” She couldn’t help but have a small grin. “No one goes in there because of her. So nobody would suspect us. They never saw us in the first place. And if they did they would have just thought we were trying to catch the heir of Slytherin which to their credit we were trying to do. They would have simply let us be.”

“That it is quite-” Snape paused finding an appropriate word before settling on- inventive.” It wasn’t quite a compliment and they both knew that he was still upset over her thievery from his private stores even after all of these years. But it was probably the closest thing to a nicety he would ever give her. She couldn’t help but feel pleased by his reception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and Review.  
> I will be posting next on the 18th


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I found myself having a lot of difficulty writing this chapter. And I considered opting it out of the story but I really needed some aspects of this chapter to set up the next. Which is really going to make an impact on Hermione and Snape's relationship.

Chapter 2

July 23-August 5

  
  


Severus Snape had a temper. Everyone knew that but Hermione was lucky enough to have been spared from it over the years. She had experienced his cruel words. They were like ice that had sliced across her skin but she has never experienced the whirlwind of his anger as he lost control. He has stages of emotions. Most of them were negative and most believe that he doesn’t have a heart. No one has seen him happy or laugh. The closest anyone has seen to a smile is when he has a smirk gracing his face. He was normally neutral in his facial expressions. The epitome of control. His movements and words were always precise and well thought of in advance. He spoke in a languid manner. Then when he is upset he will insult others. Normally in a sharp whisper. His words were aggressive and his body tense. But he still reigned in his rage. Keeping it within. Then there was a pure rage. It is easy to see when he was in that state that he could be considered a murderer. He would snarl and be unrestrained. His voice grew frantic along with his actions. It was if he was a hungry caged beast waiting to pounce and someone just foolishly opened the door. 

But he wasn’t a monster. He was just extremely closed off and guarded. You only saw what he wanted you to see. The person he pretends to be. But you could see glimpses behind the shell. The man behind the masks. There were cracks if you knew where to look. He loved potions. That was clear to see. He lived and breathed it. He was a brilliant Potion’s master. And that was not only respect but a fact. Teaching might not be his forte but experimenting clearly was. When brewing he didn’t need instructions, everything he needed to know was already inside of his head. And from what Hermione could tell he even deviated from the instructions found inside of textbooks with his own personal recipes. Ever since her first year, he never had the students use the instructions found within the textbooks. He always wrote them on the board. Being Hermione she compared and contrasted the recipes. Though potions was not her favourite subject compared to arithmancy and charms she still had enough skill to see why he would make the alterations and their added benefit. It was a testimony to his intelligence. Which is often lost behind his glare. She felt thrilled when she discovered this little secret. He may not like the students but he did still try to teach them and share with them to the best of his knowledge.

The next day it took all of her strength to prevent herself from smiling when she saw the name Polyjuice on her list of potions. It seemed like a victory. A small one at that. Even though it required her to do more work, she couldn’t help but feel as though she had a spring in her step from my excitement. She quickly composed her giddiness to ensure avoiding his wrath. It felt like something had given way between them. As if the wall that separated them installed a window to see through to the other side. 

A couple of weeks later and things had improved slightly. He seemed to trust her more by giving her more complicated potions to work on. For the most part, they still worked in silence. But when she was brave enough to ask him a question, he didn’t always grunt and snap at her. 

“What are the effects of using a brass cauldron versus a copper one when brewing poison antidotes?”

“How does the memory potion affect victims of the cruciatus?” 

“When someone's injuries affect the bloodstream, is it more effective to use potions or charms?”

She learned a lot about healing from a potion’s standpoint during her time with him. It added to her already extensive knowledge of healing charms she learned while in the company of Madam Pomphrey and textbooks. Professor Snape would sometimes even answer her or engage her in conversation himself. But she always had to be careful when she was in his presence. Some days he was like a rabid dog. One wrong move and he will attack. Today was one of those days. 

“You really should put more security measures around your private stores,” Hermione suggested from her spot drying some new ingredients. They were discussing the places they caught students after curfew. Professor Snape had a higher list than her; with her only having two years of experience as Prefect. But she would have another year to add to her list in the upcoming year as Headgirl. She was already informed by the Headmaster. She could barely contain her excitement when given the title. 

“Unfortunately even though they are my private stores if something happens to me or I am not present and another staff member needs access to the stores they need unrestricted access. And normally it has never been a problem since no student would ever dare to steal from me,” Snape drawled while combing through a book. He held it open with one hand while the other when not turning pages strummed the table. Tapping at a rhythm only he knew. His focus was meticulous even when he was multitasking. Something Hermione envied. 

“For good reason.” Everyone experienced his disdain during class. He was no stranger to taking away house points and handing out detentions. One could only imagine the month’s worth of detention he would have in store for anyone caught stealing from him. It wasn’t worth the risk. She, being the rare exception.

“Then which one of you three has been the one to break into my private store over the years?” Snape asked innocently while turning a page. He was seated on the edge of the table in a chair he transfigured. He didn’t seem to be relaxed, rather he was confident while in his environment. 

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Hermione deflected. She tried to keep her voice as normal as possible but she knew that she failed miserably. It was clear that Snape didn’t believe her by the snort he gave.

“You are a horrible liar.” 

“I am fully aware,” Hermione admitted with a small smile. “It was never something I needed to do. Before Hogwarts I never lied.”

“About anything?” Snape asked, surprised. She didn’t blame him. Statistically speaking all children lie, it was just a natural part of life. Then there was the part where he was most likely used to people lying to him.

“I would occasionally omit the truth,” she said hesitantly after a moment of reflecting. “But no It was rarely something I did.” It wasn’t lost to the pair that she never answered his question.

“It shows.”

“You're not all that great at lying yourself,” she humored. She was enjoying the playfulness of the conversation. It was quite light-hearted compared to his gloomy disposition. 

“Really,” Snape said with an arched brow. “In case you have forgotten my job is to lie.” Everyone in the order knew he was a spy. Hermione herself has been aware of this since the end of her fourth year.

“Yes, but everyone has a tell. Including you,” she pointed out.

“Very well what are mine?” He asked in invitation. He was looking at her intently now. He had lost interest in his read and was curious to how she would respond. She hesitated at first to answer. She had a feeling of apprehension. They never talked about anything personal about themselves. But she didn’t see the harm in discussing this if he was open to the reception. 

“You know how people look away when they lie,” she asked without waiting for an answer. “Well, you do the complete opposite. You also uncross your arms from around your back when you are less confident or unsure of yourself.”

“You seem to know quite a lot of my behaviour,” Snape said, surprised. Anyone else would have been creeped out by the close observation. But to a man like Snape. He was begrudgingly, slightly impressed though he would never admit it. It was good knowledge for him to be aware of so he can self-correct his behaviour. He also knew that her observations were simply a part of her inquisitive nature. He would have felt her eyes on him if she took an extended amount of time to study him. 

“It’s a thing I do with everyone,” Hermione said, explaining herself. Trying to reassure him that she wasn’t stalking him. She had a strange habit when it came to observing others. She was aware of that. “Harry gets angry when he lies as though he was offended that he was even asked the question in the first place. Then Rons gets shifty especially his eyes as he panics. And Neville stutters.”

“Quite a strange hobby you’ve got there,” Snape said, giving her a strange look. Shrugging it off he said teasingly, “But it beats rearranging the old student detention records for fun.” Reminding her of the time she did rearrange the student records. In her defence, she was stress-cleaning during her OWLs. She wasn’t aware that he knew about that but she had been so out of it she probably wouldn’t have even noticed if he stood behind her and talked to her.

“That’s a little hypocritical don’t you think? Considering you do the same thing,” Hermione pointed out.

“Do I now?” He asked in challenge.

“Yes,” Hermione said trailing off. Turning around to put the ingredients away. Facing him once more she said, “You end up narrowing your eyes in anger because someone dared to try and lie to you. But then you smirk in victory because you have the upper hand when the student thinks they have pulled the wool over your eyes.” Reading did come in handy every now and then. It allowed her to be more familiar with what people are thinking based on physical cues.

“Just because you are familiar with some of my behaviours doesn’t mean you know me,” Snape said defensibly. His voice lowered a few octaves. 

“Well if I dare to be so bold I would even go as far as to say that you are an open book. Maybe not your past,” Hermione corrected quickly knowing that was dangerous territory. “But there are a lot of things I can deduce from your behaviour.”

Taking a deep breath, Hermione looked Snape in the eyes and said, “You aren’t prejudiced, at least not towards blood purity. You're a half-blood, not a pureblood. That’s obvious by your last name. Then there is the part where you are currently working side by side with a muggle-born with nothing more than your usual disdain. Your anger comes from working with others not because you think of me as inferior due to my blood. You only think of me and others as inferior based on our intelligence.” Growing more confident in her speech she grew bolder and even took a step closer towards him. “You don’t look people in the eye because people make you uncomfortable. You are antisocial but you genuinely enjoy being independent and you think being around others makes you reliant on them. Or that if others are around you they will become reliant on you and you don’t want to let them down. When you lie you look people in the eye because you want to see the hurt in their eyes that you caused. Not because you enjoy causing pain to others but because you feel guilty and you feel like you deserve to live with their pain.” She barely recognized that she was talking too much. She did tend to ramble on. A nasty habit that could sometimes get her into trouble. Unfortunately, she didn’t always have the best filter when it comes to her words. It appears that Snape would be experiencing this first hand. 

“Your forgetting that I am a death eater,” Snape said with a glare. It was the first time that he ever admitted or referred to himself with such a derogatory title. At least while in her company. He never spoke about Voldemort or the death eaters while in the presence of his students, even those who were a part of the order. It was clear that they were hitting a dangerous territory. But she just couldn’t stop herself from wanting to be right.

“You say that as though it counteracts all that I just said. All that is true,” Hermione said continuing on not necessarily realizing his growing anger. “You counteract certain death eater propaganda. You're the anomaly and yet you are still in Voldemort’s favour even after a decade of being dangled in front of Dumbledore. He trusts you more than anyone else. You are essentially his favourite otherwise you would have been killed a long time ago.” 

“Then there is your role as a death eater. You may be good at interrogation but you're not a torturer or sadistic like Bellatrix. You aren’t a murderer or executioner like Macnair or Greyback. You don’t work at the ministry like Dolohov or have the influence like the Malfoy’s or Nott’s. You don’t fit,” Hermione said without pause. The room grew colder as Snape’s fingernails began to dig into his chair. “Most assume death eaters are simply pureblood supremacists and while that may be true that is not Voldemort's plan. Voldemort wants power in the wizarding world and the muggle world not necessarily discriminating against muggle-borns. He used the purebloods' prejudice as a weapon to gain followers. In order to gain personal power. Your job is to gain academic knowledge for your master. And everyone knows that knowledge is power.” Hermione had given this much thought after the return of Voldemort. This idea proved true after the battle at the department of mysteries. Looking back at the death eaters' behaviour from that night it was amazing that everyone survived. Especially the six students. They were fully prepared to kill the students. Despite how much he despised his students and may toy will the idea of slipping them a poison. Professor Snape has never actually attempted nor did she think he would ever try to deliberately maim or kill one unless they were trying to kill him or another student. 

“You are different from the bad guys for the simple reason that you are not the bad guy. You are a hero. You have saved so many lives. All because you think you need to redeem yourself from something you did that was out of your control.” 

“I made my choices. They were my decisions and mine alone.” Snape said directly the blame onto himself. Despite his aggression, he was taking full responsibility for his actions, especially the mistakes he made when he was barely an adult. She knew that Voldemort recruited students out of Hogwarts. He couldn’t have been more than 17 or 18 at the time. Not much older than her. And though she may act like she knew everything. She certainly didn’t have everything sorted out and she doubted even he did at that age.

“Maybe but you were experiencing circumstances that drew you onto a darker path because you thought you had no other choice. Even being sorted into Slytherin had an influence on you. The house isn’t evil but some of the people were. When you realized you had another choice you joined the order.” Hermione defended him. The smile she wore on her face slipped off as she took in his fury. The room was cold and hot all at once. It was as if she was becoming trapped under a layer of ice. But he exploded like a volcano. Raining hell down upon her. And she was helpless to escape.

“You think you are so smart,” Snape snapped. “You think that you know everything about everything. About me? Don’t psychoanalyze me. You don’t know me or what I have done. Silly girl. I have killed and I have tortured. I have ripped families apart. Caused people irreversible pain.” He had dropped his book a long time ago and gripped the handrests of his chair so tight that his knuckles turned white. He stood up shakily putting all of his weight on his hands. Moving around the table, he stalked towards her, ending up right in front of her. His height was apparent as he towered a foot over her. It was easy to see why people were intimidated by the man. “I am a monster,” Snape roared with a red face. His voice grew raspy as it grew in volume. Hermione kept her head held high. Her eyes fluttered trying to keep contact with him but she couldn't help letting them drift to the side. His glare was too great. His eyes normally a dark grey flashed almost black. It scared her. He has intimidated her before but never scared her. Not like this. 

Anger rolled off him in waves. Like a tsunami crashing down on the shores. Inwardly his words made her flinch. Crossing her arms around her chest as he insulted her she resisted the urge to step back. “And you are just a silly little girl that is trying to prove that she isn’t so insecure. You think you know a little piece about me. But I know everything about you. I have observed all of my students. Figuring them all out piece by piece. And you are no exception. In fact you were one of the easiest person’s I was able to decipher. You show off in all of your classes. Trying to prove that you are smarter than everyone else that you are superior to others because they believe that you are inferior. You pretend like you are so strong when in fact you are  _ weak _ .” The way he hissed the word  _ weak  _ made her heart pound. “Not because you have lesser powers or intelligence but because you hide your insecurities instead of embracing them. You are an embarrassment to the strength and confidence you try to portray yourself as. Trying to protect yourself from being ridiculed, you pretend like the whispers don’t get to you. And yet with each one you crumble a little more each time.” Her eyes watered from the harsh truth. Blinking quickly she tried to fight back the tears.

“You can hide behind your books all you want but it doesn’t deny the thoughts that run through your head. The thoughts that say that you are worthless and not smart. The ones that tell you you don’t deserve your friends and that you aren't a true Gryffindor. You are a pretentious insufferable know-it-all that holds back. Because you are ashamed of yourself. Well, I hate to break it to you. But you will never be able to prove that you are better than everyone else. That you are good enough. Because you are afraid that you are not good enough to fit in this world. That you don’t belong. You are weak not because other people tell you these things. But because you already believe them,” He said out of breath with his teeth bared. 

Tears began to slide down her cheeks. Hermione pressed her lips together to prevent any noise as the silence grew. The only sound left in the room was Severus Snape’s deep breathing. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Next chapter will be posted on the 21st  
> Here’s a little tidbit for the next chapter:
> 
> Washing the blood off her hands was harder than she thought.


End file.
